Some say that motorcycle-riding for them was a destiny, something fated by the legacy of their mother, or father, or grandfather before them. I, on the other hand, had never been within 20 feet of a motorcycle before age 24.
In the wake of a divorce that left me uprooted and lost, my roommate began including me in the hobby that was his escape from the rigors of the daily grind: rebuilding vintage motorcycles. As I saw him passionately devote himself to each bike that entered our garage, I realized that what I was searching for when deciding to start over was the very thing that he found in those motorcycles. Before long, I had taken the motorcycle endorsement course and was out there riding on my own.
Presently, motorcycling has taken a precedence in my life that I could have never foreseen, and I could not be any happier. It has brought me to the most amazing people and places that four wheels could not accommodate. I have been tested and made stronger through the trials of owning my own motorcycles. I avidly ride and wrench on my 2016 Harley-Davidson Iron 883 and 1993 Harley-Davidson FXRS-SP (seen above). I am hungry to learn more and more about these machines because I know that I owe to them the happiness that I find in life today.
My day job may be to teach English to classrooms full of high school students, but my heart and soul are devoted to putting as many miles underneath my wheels as possible, and meeting as many likeminded spirits as I can along the way.